If the 2019 Joker Movie was Batman's Origin
by Nai Fong
Summary: Self explanatory... a look at what Batman would be like if the 2019 film "Joker" had been his true origin story. Takes place many years after the movie, during Bruce Wayne's adult days as the crime-fighting, caped crusader. Please watch the film before reading!


If the 2019 Joker Movie was Batman's Origin…

_Author's note: Please do not read without first seeing the 2019 movie "Joker", both due to spoilers and for maximum recognition of all important references…_

Ra's al Ghul faced down his greatest enemy, for what he thought would be the final time… "This city must be cleansed of its filth and vileness," he began.

"Uh, huh," Batman agreed, surprising him a bit.

"I must eliminate the lowly scum and base cretins that make Gotham a cesspool of wickedness and decay…"

"Oh, for sure," Bruce agreed, with neither sarcasm nor sass, "Totally, onboard with that."

"What?" Ra's asked, taken aback. "I thought you dedicated your life to fighting for this city?"

Batman shook his head and chuckled. "No, I dedicated my life to fighting _the city_ itself. My parents were slaughtered because some disgruntled poor people got pissed off and jealous and decided they could hurt whoever they wanted… and just because my Dad made an off-hand comment on T.V.? Seriously?" He laughed again. "No, I don't care. You do whatever you want."

"Really?" Ra's was even more befuddled by this statement. "You mean… you're not going to try to stop me?"

"Heck, no," Batman answered flippantly. "It's like you said. They _are_ lowly scum and base cretins. They only care about themselves and do whatever their animal brains tell them to. My father created thousands of jobs, foundations, charities and industry in this city. He pumped _millions _of dollars into its economy, boosting families and communities to a higher standard of living. He was one of the _only _wealthy people in Gotham who tried consistently to help and look what he got for it… And on top of that, they decided to worship his killer? A psychopathic clown murderer? The one who destroyed their best hope for happiness? Give me a break. They all deserve to die."

"Wow," Ra's sat down in an armchair across from his nemesis in the Wayne mansion, where he had chosen to confront him. He needed a minute to process all that he had just learned about his greatest foe. "That's pretty messed up."

"Is it though?" Batman pressed. "Can you really argue after all the evidence I just presented you with? Believe me, I'm the world's greatest detective. I studied and researched all of this after my parents died. Come on. You were just _for _this idea a second ago."

"Yeah, but…" Ra's sighed. "I had this whole thing planned out in my head of how this was going to go. We were going to argue, debate about the fate of Gotham and its citizens, have this epic battle with witty back-and-forth one-up banter... I was _really _looking forward to it. Now… you're making it so easy… I kind of don't even want to do it anymore."

"Oh, don't be like that," Bruce consoled. He walked over to a long, ornate table furnished with decanters, bottles and glasses, all filled with dark liquid. He poured them each a generous draught. "Here, have a drink and we'll talk about it."

"You partake of alcohol?" Ra's was really caught off guard by that. "A warrior such as yourself should know better than to ruin his senses in such a way."

"Oh lighten up," Bruce said, languidly handing him a glass. "You've got to take what little pleasures you can get in this life. That's what meaningless suffering has taught me."

"Jesus," Ra's sounding concerned now. "Ever thought about seeing a therapist?" He still held the glass, albeit tightly and uncomfortably.

"Oh, believe me, Alfred tried making go to many… before I fired him."

"You _fired_ your parent's butler?" Ra's was genuinely shocked now, "Your only worldly connection to them? What on earth made you think _that _was a good idea?"

"He lied on his resume," Bruce answered casually, taking a seat across from his enemy and another swig. "My parents told me he was ex Special Air Service. They're like one of the best special forces units on the planet and yet he got choked through our main gate by a random guy off the street? I don't think so… He didn't even have security posted near there. Near the entrance to the Wayne mansion!"

"Now, that _is_ a good point." Ra's admitted, swilling the liquid in his glass. "Well, have you tried getting revenge on the guy who caused all this? It always helps me."

"Ha!" The Batman let out a loud guffaw at that. "He was in his late forties or something when he started that riot. By the time I began crime fighting he was easily pushing seventy or so. Oh, I fought him a few times to be sure, but he's _so_ old now and his bones and joints aredamaged from all of his shenanigans. And if you're thinking his psychosis makes up for his age, believe me… that didn't last too long. And his brain is way addled, too… It's like fighting a nursing home grandfather with Alzheimer's."

"Sheesh," Ra's finally took a sip, grimacing at the burn, but well convinced by his rival's depressing story that some men needed such artificial pleasure… "So, why do you even fight crime, then, if you hate the city and everyone in it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Batman sat down again after refilling his glass. "Most of the criminals in Gotham are impoverished, like the rioters who killed my parents. Poverty is a huge contributor to crime rates. It's the perfect excuse to beat up all the useless degenerates I want! Plus I get to prevent what happened to me and my parents from happening to other people. I mean… I still fight white collar crime on occasion, but it's little petty crimes committed by angry, whiny babies of men and women that are _so _satisfying to squash," another pull on the glass, "_Those _are the dangerous situations that turn into murders, assaults, manslaughter and irrevocable damage. _Those _are what really hurt people… as you can plainly see." Bruce spread his arms wide and gestured to himself as he finished his second drink.

"Wow," Ra's al Ghul said once again, finishing his own glass of liquor in friendly agreement. "I had this whole speech ready… but _you've _just proven most of the things I was going to say!"

"See, you can still pull off your grand plan." Bruce assured, positively. "I can't really help, since I don't believe in killing people, but that doesn't mean I have to stop you. Who knows, maybe this is the answer Gotham needs. Still, you should wait 'till tomorrow. Never fight crime under the influence, I say. Not a good idea… I would know."

Ra's nodded, unable to believe what was happening, "Okay, tomorrow then." He put down his glass, stood and walked toward the door. This had been one of the strangest nights in all of his many lifetimes.

"And maybe…" Bruce called after him hopefully. "We could do this again sometime? I really enjoyed talking to someone who understands, at least a little..."

"Yeah," Ra's said with a smile as he opened the door, looking back at a new friend. "I'd like that."


End file.
